I thought Franzen's Crossroads was a stronger book, but perhaps it was just more to my liking. This is also a family saga exploring the flaws of the family members and how they tug on each other and transform through relationships. The Corrections had an almost satirical, sci-fi tinge, especially the parts about Corecktall, and I felt like the book was slow to start. I am still not sure what to think of Enid and Alfred. As one of three children, I recognized a lot of sibling dynamics in Gary, Chip, and Denise, and I thought they were masterfully noticed: one sibling choosing to be the enforcer to the parents, another trying to be The Good One, and another trying to disappear. Franzen is so attuned to the complex burden of being someone's child and someone's relative - the complex burden of being human among humans at large. I think that is Franzen's main strength, and it came through in the Corrections.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
I enjoyed reading "I'm sorry you feel that way" more than I had expected. It is not light in terms of topics - family dynamics, unlovedness breeding unlovedness, mental health, deaths - but it's light in language, it reads easy, and if dysfunctional (AKA most) families interest you, I would recommend this one. I thought the ending was a little feel-good, but then the whole book is tragic in an everyday sense, and absurd at the same time. I found the characters a bit flat - each one had their defining characteristic, their "thing", and didn't really develop outside of that, except maybe Alice, and even then not majorly. However, the interplay of their personalities and relationships was rich and realistic, and Celia's complicated maternal love and loneliness were described thoughtfully.
Amazing book. A deep and complicated story of a pastor's family, examining parent-child, spousal, and sibling relationships, but also relationships with religion, sex, drugs, love, and one's goodness - or lack of it. This is not a simple read, it is not a book filled with pleasant characters, if anything, it's the opposite, but it's raw, insightful, and thoughtful. The way Franzen describes his characters' inner world reminded me of Tolstoy. I will definitely re-read it.
NOTE: I read this book in Russian, the original version published by Meduza.
I have long been a reader of Elena Kostyuchenko, so many of the articles in the book were already familiar to me. I think Elena's journalistic work is unique to modern Russia. No one else does what she does. This book is a great illustration of that.
Do not be fooled by the title: it was originally published as "My ******* country", a title that in Russian easily reads as "My fucking country", but turns out to be "My beloved country", and this is exactly the tension in the book and the articles. The attention to all the dark, complicated, painful topics in 21st-century Russia can come from deep, burning hatred or deep, painful love, and here it is the second.
Throughout the book, you pick up on the everyday disregard for human life, decency, and reason, that permeates life in Russia - it has culminated in the terrible war Russia is continuing to wage in Ukraine. But it started earlier - in the hospitals, in the abandoned buildings, in the disregard for Northern peoples. Kostyuchenko's documentation is to me, as a Russian, heartbreaking - but absolutely necessary.
I first read this book more than three years ago, and then I loved it to no end. It felt like a wonderful entrance into the Iliad, I loved the plot and language. On re-reading, I still like all these things, but I couldn't help but notice that the book is a little cute. Cutesy is the best way I can describe it. It felt reminiscent of fanfiction, and I felt like often the story was gently reframed to cater to a modern reader. I still like it, but I wish it was less lightweight - perhaps that's just not what the author has intended, but I think that's what the story deserves.
This is a masterpiece - a beautifully written study of deeply flawed people in a deeply flawed relationship. I could not put it down. It is dark, complex, and poignant, but I think Yates manages that complexity wonderfully. He has amazing insight into humanity.
For what it is - a post-humorously published unfinished work written by a woman in the early 20th century - this is truly great. It's a down-to-earth, detailed, and loving description of peasant life in the Russian Empire. The scope of the work is quite narrow (basically just the villages belonging to the author's father) and the author is very clearly not a professional ethnographer. Still, I found the writing refreshing and the information invaluable.
I think the topic of this book is incredibly important, and the research done by the author in terms of collecting archival material is great. I found the depth of analysis, however, severely lacking. This is a very descriptive and superfluous account of what it is like to be queer in the USSR. I think in trying to make the book accessible to a wide audience the author, perhaps, went too far.
This felt like a bad fanfiction in more ways than one. The main character is supposed to be smart, but isn't, the author makes sure to not only tell us her weight and height, but continuously and annoyingly highlight how every last person finds her beautiful, even at her ripe old age of 38. The mystery is underbaked, and the ending is predictable. I was really disappointed by this one, and I only finished it because I was reading it for a book club.